


Integrity

by Graceful_Storyteller



Series: Spy!Scream [2]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: AU of an AU, Alternate Universe, Anger Management, Bigotry & Prejudice, Consequences, M/M, Spy!Starscream, Sticky, getting out of an abusive warship before it's too late, off-screen sticky sexual interfacing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 07:00:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23967292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Graceful_Storyteller/pseuds/Graceful_Storyteller
Summary: A good spy knows how to power through adversity.A great spy doesn't let their pride get them killed.A Duplicity AU in which Starscream leaves the Decepticons after Megatron tries to terminate him. This is the story of Starscream facing the consequences of revealing to the world he was an Autobot spy all along. Diverts at point 40. of Duplicity.
Relationships: Optimus Prime/Starscream
Series: Spy!Scream [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1419265
Comments: 40
Kudos: 165





	1. Chapter 1

40.

_He’s going to kill me._

Still stunned from the blow to the helm that put him on the floor, Starscream stares helplessly up at Megatron as the warlord's fusion cannon is pressed against his chest armour. The hungry whine of the charging weapon fills the room as their optics meet. Starscream's spark pulses frantically in its chamber as he sees in Megatron's crimson gaze something he has never seen before.

Finality.

_He’s actually going to do it._

Usually, this would be the point when Starscream would start begging for his life. For some reason this defence mechanism fails to kick in and he does nothing more than stare at the vicious grin aimed his way.

“Goodbye Starscream.”

The cannon fires and Starscream cries out as heat scorches his plating.

“Soundwave!” Megatron roars, turning on his favourite lieutenant. The lieutenant who purposefully knocked into his leader, who turned a killing blow into a merely painful one, and who is now doing what any sane mech would – rushing to justify his continued functioning.

“Soundwave: apologises, Lord Megatron. Query: who will replace Starscream as Second in Command?”

“ _What?!”_

Standing to attention, Soundwave explains in his calm, modulated voice, “Decepticons with potential to replace Commander Starscream: Shockwave, Thundercracker, Ramjet, Onslaught, Motormaster. Suitability for promotion at present: negligible. Conclusion: Starscream still required as Second in Command. Conclusion: termination of Starscream premature. Suggestion: postpone execution until viable alternative selected and prepared for command.”

Megatron glares at the unmoving Communications Officer before, with another frustrated roar, he backhands the mech. Soundwave stumbles, his hands raised in self-defence as he wilts under his lord’s fury.

“Don’t ever get in my way like that again,” Megatron hisses at him before storming out of the Command Centre.

Silence reigns as cowering witnesses slowly find enough courage to return to work. Starscream watches them, still feeling oddly detached. He turns towards Soundwave, his optics struggling to properly focus on the shaken mech. “I suppose I should thank you for saving my life.”

Soundwave pins him with an unreadable look. “Don’t.”

41.

The incident is the wake up call Starscream desperately needs. He cannot stay with the Decepticons. Soundwave may have saved him this time but after witnessing Megatron's reaction to such an unprecedented act of altruism Starscream has little doubt that he will not be on the receiving end of such selfless gestures in future. Starscream needs to get out before Megatron again loses his temper - and Starscream loses his life.

42.

It has been millennia since Starscream became the Autobots' spy inside the Decepticons and Jazz gave him a code to use if he ever required an extraction. In that time he has deleted redundant information from his processor multiple times in order to make room for more important data (and concocting extremely complex strategies). As it turns out, the extraction code was one of those redundant pieces of information he deleted.

The realisation is frustrating but not the least bit surprising. Starscream had never planned on using the code. He'd been so certain that his scheme to control Megatron would work, that he'd be able to stay undercover until the war was over and the Autobots emerged victorious. Now that he realises he was wrong he feels like both a failure and a fool. Shame sits heavy, like bad energon, in his fuel tank as he composes an emergency message for Jazz. Hopefully the saboteur will respond to the breach of protocol and not assume that he has been compromised. He doesn't think he will survive if Jazz chooses to burn him now.

43.

_Jet Judo. No pain no gain. Trust but verify._

44.

The news that Soundwave considers him a viable candidate to replace Starscream goes straight to Ramjet's helm. As sickening as the Seeker's attempts to ingratiate himself to Megatron are to witness, they do provide the perfect excuse for Starscream to declare himself the only competent flyer in the entire Airforce. Ramjet's wings flare in indignation, his weapons charging as he advances on his nemesis. Megatron places a restraining hand on his shoulder, a nasty sneer on his face.

“A bold statement Starscream – one I have seen little evidence to support of late. Perhaps a _demonstration_ of your aptitude is required.”

Starscream returns the sneer with a simpering smile. “Of course Lord Megatron. It would be my absolute _pleasure_.”

45.

Sunstreaker is easy to spot out on the battlefield. After causing chaos throughout the Autobot battle lines Starscream allows himself to drift into range of the golden menace. As expected, the mad grounder comes for him and attempts to wrestle him out of the sky.

Starscream lets him.

He pretends to fight back, spiting curses and flinging insults as the majority of his processor focuses on ensuring no harm befalls either of them. It isn't easy to complete a controlled descent when there is an idiot on your wings throwing off your balance. Still, he thinks he manages to make their descent look enough like a crash landing to not raise suspicions. The way the Autobots heedlessly converge on him (and his trine start calling him an idiot over comms) help confirm the success of his performance.

Transforming back to root-mode, Starscream knocks Sunstreaker aside and shifts onto one knee. His null-rays hum with power as he points them at the nearest of the advancing Autobots.

The still warm muzzle of a blaster presses against Starscream's helm. “I've got a proposition for you Decepticon. How about you surrender and save me ruining the décor?”

At the sound of Jazz's voice the fight leaves Starscream. He bows his head in feigned resignation, powers down his weapons, and holds out his wrists to be cuffed.

“Heh. That wasn't too hard was it?” The blaster is removed; an unnecessary threat when he is still surrounded by a dozen charged weapons. “Book em Danno.”

“What's Danno?”

“Sunny, you disappoint me.” Jazz moves into view and snaps the cuffs onto Starscream's wrists. “Come on Starscream. You and me, we've got a date with Prowl in the _highly romantic_ Autobot Interrogation.”

“He's not my type.” Starscream glares at the grinning mech as he is dragged to his feet. “Neither are you.”

“Don't flatter yourself sweetspark. You're not my type either. I do, however, like to have an audience...”

“ _Way_ too much information Jazz.”

The saboteur chuckles as he leads the procession away from the battlefield. A note of concern enters the voices still growling at Starscream over the Decepticon Airforce channel.

He pointedly turns off his comm.

46.

The Autobots divest him of his weapons, block his comms, disable flight systems, confiscate the possessions in his subspace, scan him for spyware, viruses and other malicious programs, and then (at Red Alert's insistence) repeat the process twice more.

“Should I be honoured by your paranoia or do you treat all your guests this way?”

Prowl pins him with a dirty look. “Given your reputation the chances that you allowed yourself to be captured in order to disseminate chaos at the centre of the enemy's base of operations is highly likely. It would be foolish not to rule out the possibility before concluding that you are here simply because overconfidence caused you to became careless.”

Starscream scoffs but otherwise remains silent.

Prowl's glare intensifies. “There's also the matter of you being far more cooperative and civil than expected.”

“Which automatically makes you suspect that I have been reformatted into some sort of _bomb_ and plan to _oh so selflessly_ detonate the second I am surrounded by enough valuable targets?”

“I would not put it past Megatron to rewire the processors of his subordinates.”

Starscream pauses, considering the tactician's words. “An understandable conclusion. However, your logic is flawed.” With his wrists shackled to the table between them it is impossible for Starscream to hide from his interrogators the way his hands grip each other tight as he continues, “You're assuming Megatron treats all his subordinates equally. That he doesn't have _favourites._ If you added that into your calculation you'd know that Megatron would never let me deactivate somewhere he couldn't watch it happen.”

It takes Prowl a moment to process this information. He nods slowly.

Jazz, the only other occupant within the interrogation room, looks up from the datapad he has been studying intently for the last ten minutes. “Our scans show some pretty big data packets on your internal server. Care to share their contents with the rest of the class?”

“Oh, those,” Starscream says with a dismissive flick of his wing. “As I was readying myself for battle I was overcome by the urge to download all my projects, all of Megatron's commissioned projects, Spacebridge frequencies, transmission codes, and potential energon targets. The usual.” A smirk curves his lip-plates as he purrs, “Would you like to see them?”

Jazz's visor lights up as if all his creation day celebrations have come at once. He immediately pulls out a cable and moves to insert it into the port Starscream willingly bares to him.

“Jazz!” Prowl cries, reaching for his comrade with a look of mild panic.

Easily dodging out of reach, Jazz shushes the tactician. “It's fine Prowler. He's been thoroughly scanned – there ain't any nasty surprises waiting for me on the other end of that hardline.”

“Don't say that until you've seen the data,” Starscream says, enjoying the chaos he has caused.

“Eh, that kind of nasty surprise I can handle.”

“Jazz!”

Looking a little sheepish, Jazz turns towards Prowl. “Ah, maybe now would be a good time to mention that I invoked the Integrity Protocol about an hour ago?”

Something clicks in Starscream's processor. He groans, helm dropping down to the table. “Integrity. Of course. No wonder I forgot the slagging codeword.”

“Admit it – you did it so that I'd have more datawork to fill out.”

Starscream smirks, a smart comment dancing on his lip-plates as he sits up straight. He drops it as soon as he catches sight of Prowl. “Is he alright?”

The fury of a moment ago is gone, replaced by abject confusion and horror. His optic flickers and sparks fly, his lip-plates twisting into a grimace that remains frozen in place.

“Ah scrap,” hisses Jazz. “Somebody get Ratchet; Prowl's glitching real bad!”

“Maybe you should have broken the news to him more gently?” Starscream says with faux concern as he tries not to laugh.

Jazz glares at him. “Shut up Starscream.”

47.

Once the data has been extracted and Prowl is removed for treatment Starscream is left alone with his thoughts. He doesn't doubt for a second that guards have been posted at the door, or that he is being watched by someone on the other end of the room's carefully camouflaged security cameras. Starscream has managed to count six in total, although he is certain he has missed some. He makes a game of locating them to pass the time. It does little to help alleviate his anxiety.

As amusing as it was at the time to watch Prowl glitch at the revelation of his true allegiance, it is not a good sign of things to come. The crimes he has committed on behalf of the Decepticons are many, the number of Autobots he has harmed high. There are those in High Command who have very personal reasons to hate him and want him dead. There is always the chance that they will not care that he committed so many of those atrocities simply to maintain his cover and live to thwart Megatron another day. They will demand his execution and the truth buried. They will state that that is the only logical option – that the alternative does not bear thinking about. They will speak of how demoralising it will be to the troops to pin an Autobot badge on him and allow him to wander free through the Ark. They will sneer that he has been among Decepticons too long; that he is feral and unable to exist in civil society. They will murmur that he is a duplicitous glitch waiting for the right moment to return to Megatron with Autobot secrets. They will tell Prime there is no trust and no forgiveness for someone like him.

Paranoia gnaws at Starscream's processor and only becomes more insistent the longer he is forced to wait alone and restrained.

48.

“I am sorry that I kept you waiting Starscream.”

His optics flare back online at the sound of Prime's voice. He forces himself out of his awkward slump across the table, drinking in the sight of the Autobot leader's familiar frame. “What took you so long?”

“My officers required confirmation of Jazz's assertion that you were our long-term spy within the Decepticons. As I'm sure you can guess the news has not been received with open arms.”

Starscream notes the tension in Prime's frame, the paleness of his optics, the fact that he has not rushed to embrace him as he has done the last hundred times they reunited. His tanks begin to churn. “Are you going to execute me?”

“What?” Optimus gasps in horror. “No! Why would you think that?”

“Oh, I don't know. Maybe it's how you're standing all the way over there?” Starscream answers, forcing a cruel smile. “Right by the exit so that you can drop your bomb and run away like a coward.”

Before the Seeker realises what is happening Prime is by his side and gently cradling Starscream's faceplate between his hands. “It was never my intention to make you think... I thought it would be best to wait to reveal our relationship but if that made you assume...” He retracts his battlemask to reveal a mouth pinched with worry and contrition. “Starscream, I swear by the Matrix of Leadership that no harm will come to you here. You have my word that you will be safe, now that you are where you belong. Now that you are with me...”

His spark pulses hard against its crystal as Starscream drowns in the intensity of Prime's gaze. “Kiss me you fool,” he whispers.

Prime smiles and the world falls away around them as he obliges.

49.

“What now?”

Sitting beside him, Prime rubs soothing circles across the back of his still restrained hands. “What indeed. My officers are discussing strategy as we speak. After taking some time to come to terms with your true allegiance Prowl has seen the tactical advantage possessing such information will give us. He is of the opinion that if we share the news with the Decepticons in the right way then we can generate up to four times as much disruption as the power vacuum your absence will naturally create within their ranks. For that reason he is advising against making a general announcement – to prevent any ill-considered gossip making its way back to the Decepticons. There were no objections, but there were plenty of questions regarding what to tell the troops. There is an abundance of curious sparks within our ranks who will wonder why you have been kept so long in interrogation. Even if we moved you now there would likely be questions. And where would we move you to? I made my reluctance to keep you in the brig, or in restraints in general, quite clear.”

Starscream glances pointedly down at the cuffs around his wrists. Prime offers him a wry grin.

“Ironhide also made it quite clear that the only way he was going to allow me to be in a room alone with you was if you were restrained. I thought it would be prudent to bow to his demand as he is currently monitoring Interrogation and will have no qualms about interrupting us.”

“Oh?” A mischievous smile creeps onto Starscream's lip-plates. “Your command meetings must be highly entertaining. A weapons specialist who likes to watch and a third in command who likes to _be_ watched. How do you ever get any planning done?”

“We don't.”

Starscream hides his grin in Prime's shoulder. He takes a moment to savour the warmth radiating from Prime's frame before saying softly, “I think I might have a solution to your problem.”

“Oh?”

Starscream glances up innocently. “Cuff me to your berth.”

Prime laughs.

“I'm serious!” Starscream attempts to sound offended but Prime's amusement is infectious. “The dangerous prisoner will be restrained as per your bodyguard's specifications, and I'd be willing to sacrifice a little freedom if it meant getting your undivided attention for a whole 24 hours. Everybody's happy!”

“I don't think it would send the right message to the troops,” Prime replies, still chuckling. “I wouldn't want them to get the impression my stance on taking advantage of prisoners of war has changed.”

“Hmm, you may have a point there.”

“I'll be sure to remember that little titbit for later, however,” Prime adds with a sparkle in his optics. “It's good to know that when the novelty of having you in an actual berth wears off there are other avenues for us to explore.”

“I _do_ love to explore.”

Prime beams down at him, moving in to steal another kiss. Starscream kisses back, playful and carefree in a way they have never been before. For once there is no fear of discovery dogging their reunion. Even though they are undoubtedly being watched it is by Prime's closet confidants. The repercussions of exposing their relationship to them are trivial compared to the jeopardy they have so far endured; it's no wonder that with the weight lifted they are acting like love-sick fools.

With a wince Prime pulls away. “Sorry. Ratchet is threatening bodily harm if you cause a third logic malfunction today.”

“ _Me?_ I'm not the one who exposed our relationship.” Curiosity piqued, he adds, “Who has he needed to reboot, other than Prowl?”

“Red Alert. Although apparently Ironhide is claiming he can feel a glitch coming on from our 'vulgar display'.”

“Tell your bodyguard to strap himself in because the vulgarity has only just begun.” Starscream moves in for another kiss but Prime retreats.

“Ratchet has offered to solve our lodging problem by placing you in a private room in Medbay quarantine. I'd rather not test his patience and have you shipped off to the brig.”

Starscream fights back a pout. “Who's the leader of this miserable faction – you or your medic?”

Prime ex-vents heavily. “Some days I ask myself the same question.”

50.

The next day is spent in quarantine with Ratchet as his only visitor. The medic uses the time he is supposedly treating Starscream for 'a deadly virus' performing his own interrogation. This one has nothing to do with Decepticon secrets and everything to do with his intentions towards Prime. Much to Starscream's chagrin Ratchet is not the least cowed by his hissed threats to mind his own business. Even when Starscream pushes into the medic's personal space, towering imperiously above him, he receives not the slightest indication that Ratchet is anything other than unimpressed by his performance. Whether this is because Ratchet is armed with backup a shout away, or because he is use to fearsome and uncooperative patients, Starscream doesn't know. Either way, Starscream eventually yields to his questioning.

Collapsing dramatically onto his berth he exclaims, “What do you want me to say?! That I find him attractive and want to frag him until his processor melts? Because I do! It's what I've _been_ doing every opportunity I get since before we crashed on this mudball planet! I'd like to _keep_ doing it, but on an actual berth for once, except Prime is apparently too important to be allowed near me in case he catches my _deadly virus_!”

“Well, if he's nothing more than an attractive frag I'm surprised he _hasn't_ caught any viruses - what with the Decepticons not having any real medics to solve those sorts of problems.”

“Are you calling me share-ware?” Starscream snarls, sitting up to glare at Ratchet.

“I couldn't possibly comment without knowing your medical history.” Ratchet picks up a datapad and opens a blank page. “Number of previous interfacing partners is as good a place as any to start.”

Starscream glares, thoroughly unwilling to divulge details of his private life to a stranger.

When Starscream remains uncommunicative Ratchet looks up, optic ridge raised. “You know, as Chief Medical Officer I _am_ considered to be part of Autobot High Command. I would have thought that you would want as many allies in that room debating your fate as possible. Optimus may be Prime but he won't overrule the rest of us if we decide you have to go. You might think Jazz is in your corner but he's ruthless when he has to be. Now that you've outlived your usefulness as a spy he's as likely to burn you as save you. If Optimus is as wrapped around your finger as I think he is then you're a liability. As soon as we out your 'true' allegiance to the Decepticons it won't be too hard to have you _tragically deactivated_ in battle. Optimus is use to sacrificing his own happiness for the greater good. It might hurt him now but I'm sure when the war is over he'll find a good bot to help him heal. I doubt it will take him long to forget what a good frag you were.”

For a long moment Starscream is silent as he considers Ratchet.

“You're lying.”

Looking offended Ratchet begins to splutter some ridiculous defence, but Starscream cuts over him easily.

“You're either lying or you don't know your precious Prime _at all_. If you think he'd roll over and let one of his own – because, yes, he has always considered me one of his Autobots – be sacrificed because the alternative is too messy then you're truly deluded. He would rather _die_ than abandon someone who has given their spark to _his_ cause. And even if you went behind his back and arranged for me to be deactivated he wouldn't just _get over it_. His stupid, noble conscious would make him come to the conclusion that everything was his fault – that he'd as good as killed the mech who trusted him and did a job he wasn't willing to do. The guilt would corrode him from the inside out. You might win the war but you'd lose your Prime; and if you don't know that I wouldn't want to ally with a mech with malfunctioning optics anyway.”

The expression on Ratchet's faceplate is one of fury as he storms out, but Starscream can't help but get the feeling the medic is secretly pleased.

51.

“Number of past interface partners?”

“You still going on about that?” Starscream huffs with a sideways glance at Ratchet.

The medic doesn't look up from the datapad he is using to collate Starscream's medical history. After ensuring that the doctor knew he was only divulging the information to allow a more _seamless integration into his faction_ and to prevent any _unnecessarily invasive investigations_ , Starscream had begun to catalogue the long list of injuries he'd sought treatment for over the years. Ratchet had stopped him when he was roughly six months into his tenure on Earth to ask (optics slightly pale) if there was any part of his frame Megatron _hadn't_ scrapped. It'd taken an embarrassingly long time to answer.

“You opened the door,” Ratchet says at last. “You said Megatron never touched your 'processor and interfacing equipment', and the way you said it makes me think that he wanted to do more than touch. So come on; who else wanted to touch your interfacing equipment?”

Starscream glares at the medic, willing him to change the subject. When he gives no indication of budging from the topic Starscream turns his glare to the ceiling. “Two seekers at the Vos War Academy and Skyfire before he was trapped in the ice.”

“And?”

“And Prime, obviously.”

“Really?” Ratchet asks, looking surprised. “That's it?”

“Yes,” Starscream hisses. “Is that a problem?”

“No, I just thought... There weren't any Decepticons you were curious about?”

Starscream turns his glare and the question on the medic. “Are there any Decepticons _you're_ curious about?”

“Touché,” the medic mutters resentfully, making a note on his datapad. “I'm sure you'll be pleased to know that, to my knowledge, Optimus hasn't had any other interface partners since the war began.”

Ignoring the pleased flutter of his spark, Starscream sneers, “Given that you didn't know _we_ were doing it, that doesn't mean much.”

Ratchet glares. “So, why Prime?”

Starscream returns the irate expression. “That's not medically relevant.”

“Call it a preliminary evaluation of your mental state.”

“When I meet someone qualified to evaluate my mental state I might talk about it. Until then I think this interview is over.”

52.

“I'm bored,” Starscream complains as Ratchet delivers his ration of energon and metallic supplements.

“Not my problem,” the medic responds, barely glancing at him. “Unless you're willing to-”

“No,” Starscream interrupts.

“Then, as I said, not my problem.”

“I'm not asking for much!” Starscream nearly shouts in pure frustration. “All I want is something to read to stop me from going crazy!”

“Bit late for that,” Ratchet mutters.

Starscream is suddenly on his feet and looming over the medic. The action takes them both by surprise if the expression on Ratchet's faceplate is anything to go by.

Stepping back until he is no longer in Ratchet's personal space, Starscream cycles his vents and forces himself to calm down. He's not among Decepticons anymore; he can't just _take_ what he wants or bully others into submission. He needs to be ( _urgh_ ) cooperative.

After a long moment of tense silence Ratchet reluctantly asks, “What sort of reading are you after?”

Without hesitating Starscream says, “Scope's treatise on particle physics if you have it. It's been awhile since I read the classics.”

Ratchet is quiet, internally analysing the request. “I'll see what I can do.”

53.

In the end Scope's treatise is not the only datapad Ratchet brings him. Clearly sensing a way to get under Starscream's guard and get at whatever secrets the medic believes him to be harbouring, Ratchet is quick to deliver more texts Starscream has not read since his Academy days. A needling comment here, a throwaway remark there, and before long they are neck deep in an argument about multi-verse theory. Starscream is well aware this is a ploy to gain his confidence, but that does not stop it from being an effective manoeuvre. Neither, to his delight, does it prevent Ratchet from being snared in his own trap. The expression on his faceplate is priceless when he is interrupted mid rant by a call to his comm. Flustered, he points a finger at Starscream and states, “This is not over,” before storming off to whatever meeting he is late to. Starscream does not bother concealing his laughter.

54.

“It's technically not allowed,” Ratchet admits as he swirls the High Grade in his cube.

Starscream snorts. “It technically wasn't allowed in the Decepticons either, but that didn't stop those with the slightest knowledge of chemistry attempting to create their own distillery. Some of them were even quite good at it and got permission to carry on even after they were discovered by Megatron.”

“That wasn't what I meant – although High Grade _is_ technically a banned substance,” Ratchet says, turning a contemplative gaze on Starscream. “I was talking about relationships with those beneath your rank. We've all done it – well, _most of us_ have – but I've worked so closely with Wheeljack and known him for so long that I often forget I outrank him. Still, every time we sneak away for a quick de-stress interface I'm technically taking advantage and could face serious reprimand if anyone made a formal complaint. Which is why I can't wrap my processor around why Optimus decided to get involved with you.”

Starscream taps a finger against his own cube of illegal High Grade. “Explain.”

“At the start of the war the Autobot ranks were full of what I'd call 'the old guard'. You know the sort I'm talking about?”

Starscream nods wordlessly.

“Entitled afts the lot of them. They were part of the reason so many of the disenfranchised turned to the Decepticons and Megatron's rhetoric of a violent upheaval of Cybertron's elite. However, we weren't in any position to deny them entry into our ranks – or to prevent them taking up officer positions. They had the qualifications and there were so many who needed supervising back then. Anyway, it wasn't long before they started abusing their positions. Taking larger rations, punishing mechs by turning them into personal servants, offering preferential treatment in exchange for intimate favours. Or not even offering – some decided to take what they wanted and threatened to make their subordinate wish they were fighting Megatron unarmed in the Pit if they said a word about it.

“The second Optimus found out what was going on he instigated new rules that put the blame for any fraternisation on the ranking officer. Consensual or not they would be disciplined if it ever came out. It helped us diagnose the rust in our midst as a lot more 'bots felt confident enough to come forward. We got rid of the old guard and the rules relaxed somewhat. They're still there though, hence why Wheeljack and I don't go parading our relationship about the base.”

“What has that got to do with Prime and I?”

“Well, it's still unclear what your rank is. For your protection Jazz never entered your designation into our system so we're still trying to work out what you are other than 'Jazz's agent'. Regardless, your rank isn't going to be equal to Optimus'. So by all accounts he's breaking his own rules by being in a relationship with you, and the one thing Optimus hates more than anything is being a hypocrite.”

Starscream swirls his High Grade. “Self-sacrificing fool _would_ consider himself a hypocrite wouldn't he? Even though the rules were put in place to stop officers taking advantage and there was no way for him to take advantage of _me_.”

Ratchet releases an amused snort. “I've wondered if that's how he rationalised it. Big bad Decepticon infiltrator, unofficially outside the chain of command, if anyone was going to be immune to his influence it would be you. If he made a move and you weren't comfortable you'd tell him to his faceplate he'd crossed a line instead of feeling quietly honoured Optimus Prime had noticed you.”

“Did that actually happen?” Starscream asks, horrified.

“If Optimus wasn't so good at reading people it might have. He saw early on how in awe the troops were and how even officers weren't willing to speak up if they disagreed with an order. It made him guarded in his personal affections.”

Starscream swirls his High Grade. “He asked for a kiss. He was very courteous about it. I was the one eager for it to become more.”

“Why?”

“Have you seen Prime without his mask?” Starscream asks with a playful smirk.

“I have. But if that was all you cared about you would have had other, more accessible, lovers during the war. Ones who didn't give you orders or fuss about your wellbeing. So, again, why him?”

Starscream looks away. It is a question he has always been reluctant to analyse the answer to.

“You wouldn't understand.”

There is a lengthy pause. “Actually, I think I understand perfectly.”

55.

“How much longer do I have to stay here?”

Ratchet shrugs. “When we have a solid strategy for revealing your true colours you can come out.”

Starscream glares at him. “That could take weeks.”

Ratchet doesn't try to deny it. “It's a decision all High Command have to agree on and everyone has a different opinion on what should be done.”

Muttering curses under his breath, Starscream fights the temptation to break something. Destruction has always done wonders for releasing the tension in his frame. It's a shame the Autobots frown on such things.

With a heavy ex-vent, Ratchet says grudgingly, “I can make your guards disappear tonight if you want Optimus to come visit.” He aims a threatening digit at Starscream as he continues, “But keep your hands to yourself. There are cameras in here and I _will_ be monitoring the two of you.”

Pointedly ignoring the way his spark flutters at the thought of seeing Prime, Starscream says faux sweetly, “Are you sure? The two of us can put on one Pit of a show.”

“I don't doubt it,” Ratchet huffs. “That still doesn't mean I want to know what one of my best friends gets up to in the berth.”

Starscream smirks but decides not to push his luck with the temperamental medic.

56.

Starscream keeps Ratchet's threats in mind as he embraces Prime. They kiss, but keep it short. There is touching, but Prime is tactile and there is nothing erotic in the gentle caresses of Starscream's faceplate and hands. Even when the touches move to his wings they are more soothing than anything.

They talk about inconsequential matters – the datafile Starscream is reading and all the texts Prime has sitting unread on his shelves. The knowledge that they are being watched drifts away into the ether as Starscream loses himself in Prime and his hypnotic voice.

57.

“Thank you,” Prime whispers.

Starscream is only half awake as they lie together on the medical berth. “What for?”

“For pulling out when you did. I don't think I could have taken much more.”

“Of what?”

“Of waiting to hear that you'd been deactivated.”

Starscream nuzzles Prime's chest, his optics slipping offline. “Never.”

58.

“You know,” Ratchet says casually the next day. Too casually. “One of the reasons it's taking so long to decide what to do with you is that we've never had to invoke the Integrity Protocol before.”

“Really?”

Ratchet nods solemnly. “You're the first deep-cover to ever be retrieved alive. I don't know how many Jazz sent in, but I've done the autopsies on the ones we recovered. What was left of them anyway. If the spy wasn't dropped to their death by Seekers just inside Autobot territory – after the Decepticons had had their fun of course – then Megatron would send Optimus a distinctive part of their frame as proof of deactivation. It was hard to do a proper autopsy on frames in such poor conditions. Jazz always insisted though. Somehow he managed to identify his people no matter what condition they were in. He needed to know what they'd gone through – what fate he'd condemned them to. Prime was always right there beside him with a consoling hand on his shoulder.” He pins Starscream with a look that speaks volumes. “I might not know how many Autobots Jazz sent undercover, but I know Jazz. His reactions tell me that you're not just the first agent he's recovered; you're also going to be the last.”

Suddenly deeply interested in his finger joints, Starscream murmurs, “That... Would explain a few things.”

Again, Ratchet nods gravely. “I thought it might.”

59.

For nearly two weeks there is no trace of Decepticon activity. There is speculation that Megatron is taking the time to enjoy the peace and quiet; relaxing in his quarters as he happily imagines Starscream languishing in the Autobot's brig, secure in the knowledge that Starscream could never be made to talk.

Eventually, however, the fantasy loses its cheery glow. Megatron is forced back to his duties, to acknowledging that Soundwave had been correct in his reasoning for keeping Starscream alive.

He grows tired of the mech he promoted to be his second and decides it is time to retrieve his favourite punching bag.

60.

Starscream is dragged from recharge by Prime springing out of the berth.

“I'll be there as soon as I can. Send out a base-wide alert. I want every able-bodied mech armed and ready by the time they arrive. They are not taking Starscream.”

Reading between the lines, Starscream sits up and says, “I can help.”

Prime shakes his helm. “No. You stay here. We can handle this.”

“But I-”

“Starscream. Please.”

Frowning, Starscream gives a curt nod of agreement. Prime smiles and presses a quick kiss to his faceplate before closing his mask.

“Don't worry. I've got this.”

Starscream watches him go and wonders how true that is.

61.

What follows feels like the longest hour of Starscream's functioning. The dead silence of the isolation chamber has always been unnerving but now it is physically oppressive – a dead weight on his wings.

He paces, imagining the worst. Prime pinned under Decepticon fire. Prime injured. Prime deactivated.

No, he can't be deactivated. Shielded chamber or not Starscream is certain if Megatron had succeeded in terminating his nemesis the whole planet would have heard the mad-mech's victory cry. Whatever is happening out there to prolong the battle, Prime still functions.

The comfort of that thought sustains him for a whole five minutes.

“Hey!” Starscream cries as he pounds on the door. “Hey! What the frag is happening out there?!”

Like all the times before, he receives no response.

“Slaggers!” he screams. “Tell me what's going on!”

Silence.

He gives the door a furious kick. Pain shoots through his circuits and he hops away with a curse.

After taking a moment to calm himself, Starscream turns considering optics on the door. Maybe he could hack into the system and initiate an emergency override? He doubts there will be more than two guards; if he's quick he can disable them or, at the very least, steal a weapon. After that he'd need to crack Ratchet's password, use the Medbay terminal to access the surveillance systems, maybe even-

The door opens to reveal Jazz. Starscream's processor stalls. He doesn't think he's ever seen the saboteur look so serious.

“We have a situation.”

“You don't say?” Starscream snaps. “What happened?”

Jazz's lip-plates twist into a sardonic smile. “Megatron got stupid lucky is what happened. On the way here he decided he'd take a little detour for a quick smash-and-refuel. According to the humans the place he chose has spent the last year developing _definitely unsanctioned_ technology designed to disable Cybertronians.”

Starscream releases a quick stream of curses before refocussing his processor on the situation at hand. “How can I help?”

Jazz moves to the berth and sets up a number of projectors, each showing a different view of the battle raging outside. Starscream steps forward, regarding them with a critical optic. As always Prime is in the centre of the conflict. He charges towards Megatron, guns blazing, only to be pushed back into the Autobots' defensive position by a well-coordinated aerial assault. Megatron caws with delight as he watches the retreat. The sadistic glee quickly morphs into rage when an invisible force attempts to pry what must be the human weapon from his grasp. A sharp back-hand sends Mirage flying and, as he becomes visible, Megatron turns the weapon on him. The bizarre looking cannon makes a high-pitched whine as it releases a bolt of energy at the Autobot struggling to regain his feet. Blue lightning races across Mirage's fame and he falls still.

“Is he-”

“No,” Jazz says firmly as he points to an image from what must be the fringe of the battlefield. “Ratchet said the weapon causes one massive shut down of non-vital systems. It would have been easy enough for him to reboot everyone hit if he hadn't been hit himself. First Aid tried to take over but we needed him holding back the Combiners.”

Starscream frowns as he notes the long list of casualties: Ratchet, Prowl, Ironhide, the Aerialbots, Grimlock, Bumblebee...

“I've been trying to give Ratchet a quick and dirty reboot so that we have a chance to get back in the game, but every time I get close the Seekers are on me like a rust infection in Nyon. They're disgustingly competent today. If you've got any ideas on how to change that I'd love to hear them.”

Starscream studies the projectors. Jazz is correct – the Decepticons have full control of the skies and of this battle. If their lines were broken Prime would be able to reach Megatron, Jazz could reach Ratchet, and the tide of the battle would instantly turn. So the question is: how do they cause the Seekers to fall out of formation?

“I have an idea,” Starscream says gravely. “But I'm pretty sure it will ruin all your long debated plans on the best way to reveal my true allegiance. Not even my well-cultivated reputation as a petty glitch with a love of chaos will be able to explain this away.”

“We'll worry about that later. Just tell me what you need.”

“I need comms back.”

Jazz pulls out a cable and plugs it into the port Starscream bears for him. “Done. What's the plan?”

“I know my Seekers. I can get them to turn on each other.”

A vicious smile twists Jazz's lip-plates. “Do it.”

62.

What follows is not pretty. Starscream goes from one Seeker to the next, brushing aside their gloating claims that they are there to rescue him as he was clearly unable to save himself, and filling their audials with gossip of cheating lovers, lying friends, and supposed plots their rivals had previously divulged to him.

Ramjet, well, rams Thundercracker out of the sky. Red Wing and Sandstorm engage in an embarrassingly loud lover's quarrel. Nacelle tries to pick a fight with Bruticus. Slipstream shoots Thrust, who fails to accurately shoot her back. Dirge lands and tries to hide the fact he is crying. Skywarp picks up Rumble and shakes him in a way that warrants Soundwave's immediate intervention.

Without the Seekers pinning them down the Autobots are able to distract Megatron long enough to destroy the weapon. Jazz, grinning like a maniac, is also able to revive Ratchet and enough of the fallen to organise a thorough counter-attack. Enraged by the utter anarchy his forces have descended into Megatron calls an immediate retreat.

Starscream switches off the projectors and smiles up at the ceiling as he sprawls across the berth.

“Well, that was fun.”

63.

“We have a situation.”

Starscream quirks an optic ridge. “Already? Isn't one a day enough for you Autobots?”

“Oh, we've reached our daily quota,” Jazz replies as he gathers up scattered projectors. “It's your old boss who has a need for drama.”

A chill runs through Starscream's fuel lines. “What's Megatron done now?”

“He's currently bombarding the Command Centre with demands to know why you sabotaged your own rescue. Blaster's dodging his questions best he can and occasionally 'losing the connection' but old bucket head is persistent. Says he won't stop calling until he speaks to you.”

“So you've come to escort me to the Command Centre?”

Jazz twirls one of the projectors in a manner it is most certainly not supposed to be twirled. “After the Decepticons retreated High Command went straight into a meeting. You were right about your plan messing up ours. Rumours are already flying about why the Seekers suddenly went crazy. And now Megatron wants to force the issue. It's really not what we envisioned, but we're struggling to find a good enough lie to put us back on track. Still, we're willing to try if that's what you want.”

“What _I_ want?”

The look Jazz pins him with is deadly serious. “You go out there and tell Megatron you were an Autobot spy all along there's no going back. He'll come after you hard. He'll want to make sure you suffer before you deactivate. Pits, the whole slagging Decepticon army will probably be gunning for you the second you show your faceplate outside the Ark. More than that,” he pushes when it looks like Starscream will interrupt, “you'll be expected to integrate with the rest of the Autobots from now on. That means working and fuelling alongside the troops without getting into fights or being the Air Commander they all know and fear. You're not High Command; you won't be getting any special privileges. You'll be just another Spec Ops Autobot expected to follow the rules and bow to the orders of his superiors. If you're not ready to deal with that then say the word and we'll find a way to throw Megatron off the truth. But if you are then you should bring your datapads because you'll no longer be living in quarantine.”

Starscream looks away as he seriously considers Jazz's words. Is he ready to make this change? To live among his former enemies; to deal with the constant animosity and suspicion? To give up the rank he'd worked so hard to achieve? To try and make a real go at being a good, law abiding Autobot?

He isn't, is the answer to that question. Yet, what is the alternative? He can't remain in isolation forever and he _certainly_ can't go back to the Decepticons. At some point he will need to move forward – what use is there in putting off the inevitable? He made his decision when he requested extraction; it is time to face the consequences of his actions.

Jazz smiles as Starscream begins collecting his meagre belongings. “I'm looking forward to seeing you attempt to be a team player.”

“Is that code for there's a berth in the brig with my designation on it?” Starscream asks sardonically.

“You got me all wrong mech. You're in Spec Ops and I always root for my team.” More quietly he adds, “Although, on this occasion, not enough to join Ironhide's betting pool.”

Starscream can't resist laughing at that.

64.

By the time they reach the Command Centre they have developed quite a following. Along with the guards who were terrified enough of Jazz to let him waltz in and out of quarantine (but not wander off alone with the unarmed prisoner) there are at least half a dozen Autobots who stumbled across the strange procession and were disappointed when they were ordered to stand down. Remaining at a safe distance they keep asking pointless questions such as, “Are you _sure_ you're alright Jazz?”

Naturally Jazz takes it all in stride. Starscream, meanwhile, has a hard time resisting the temptation to shoot the fraggers.

“Where is that duplicitous spawn of a glitch!? I demand to speak to him right now!”

“I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that,” Blaster says cheekily. “Can you repeat your-”

“STARSCREAM!” Megatron bellows. “My back-stabbing Second in Command and utterly useless Air Commander! You will put him on this call right now or I swear I'll-”

“Blow a gasket?” Starscream drawls as he struts into view of the vidscreen. He smiles as Autobots gawk and Megatron seethes. “You wanted to speak with me Megatron?”

“Starscream,” Megatron hisses. His optics scan the Seeker's frame before narrowing further. “You seem in good health.”

Starscream nods. “I am.”

“You're also unrestrained.”

“I am.”

“I came to rescue you today,” he growls. “But my attempt was thwarted when you filled my Seekers' already limited processes with lies.”

“They weren't all lies. Nacelle has every right to want to throw Swindle into the heart of a star after what he-”

“That isn't the point!” Megatron roars, slamming his fist down onto something which immediately begins to spark. “You deliberately sabotaged the mission and I demand to know why!”

Starscream laughs derisively. “Isn't it obvious?”

Megatron's optics brighten with barely suppressed rage. “You've defected to the Autobots.”

“Oh no Megatron, I'm afraid it's much worse than that,” Starscream purrs as he leans closer to the screen. “You see, I've been an Autobot spy from day one. All those intelligence leaks you could never find the source of, all the random assassinations, all those times an Autobot victory occurred because reinforcements 'accidentally' stumbled onto the battle, all the technical glitches that led to supplies being assigned to the wrong base, all the internal strife and petty bickering that stopped the Decepticons from functioning as one well-oiled unit. That was all me.”

With a roar loud enough to rouse the dead Megatron opens fire on his console. Static fills the screen as the connection fails and a heavy silence fills the Command Centre.

Starscream pities whoever is on communications duty.

A hand curls gently around the edge of his wing. He turns to see Prime, a smile hidden behind his mask. “I think it is time you were properly introduced to your fellow Autobots.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2! I have updated the tags and upped the rating to mirror Duplicity.

65.

They gather in the rec. room for an impromptu team meeting. Prime, Starscream, Prowl and Jazz stand on a hastily erected stage as Prime provides a summary of events leading to this moment. He noticeably leaves out any indication that they might be fragging – not that Starscream had expected him to volunteer that information. It is an added complication in the same way their first kiss being proceeded by an attempted stabbing is an added complication. Knowledge of such things is best kept hidden to enable a smoother integration into the ranks.

“Which leads us up to me giving this talk,” Prime concludes, his optics gleaming brightly. “Any questions?”

There is a moment of awkward and agitated shuffling.

“Sir, how can you be _sure_ he isn't a double agent for the Decepticons?”

“I can assure you that Starscream has been thoroughly vetted by all-”

Ironhide loudly clears his vocaliser.

“By the members of High Command trained in interrogation. We all agree that his loyalties have not changed over the centuries. He is not a Decepticon spy.”

Starscream briefly shifts his stoic gaze from the crowd before him to Prime. He can't help but wonder if the identity of what (or rather _who)_ he is loyal to has been purposefully left ambiguous. Perhaps Prime is more observant than he thought.

“Why weren't we told straight away that he was an Autobot? If he pulled out of a deep cover mission two weeks ago why are we only finding out about it now?”

“I apologise for the deception,” Prime says, and means it. “There are a number of reasons why we made the decision to delay telling you. One is that we did not want to cause undue distress if it was revealed that Starscream's loyalties had indeed changed. Another is that we wished to reveal this information in a way which would most disrupt the Decepticon war effort. However, when Starscream saved the day by disrupting the Decepticon Airforce we were forced to abandon our plans, including the more gentle approach we had hoped to use in informing you all of the situation. I therefore decided it would be best to lay everything bare as soon as possible to prevent any misunderstandings.”

Muttered disagreement that Starscream was the one to 'save the day' ripples through the crowd.

“What happens now? Is he going to be made an officer?”

The grumblings get louder.

“Starscream will not be an officer. For now he will be placed under Jazz's command as a Special Operations agent. This will be reviewed after he has had time to integrate with the rest of you.”

“Integrate!?”

“Do you know how many of my friends he's killed?!”

“How can you expect us to act like he hasn't been shooting at us for millennia!?”

“I know this won't be easy,” Prime says gently. “I know many of you are wary of Starscream. I know that he has needed to take Autobot lives – lives of those you may have been incredibly close to – for the sake of maintaining his cover. I am trusting that you will see that it was not personal, that his actions-”

“Is he going to apologise?”

There is a general murmuring of support.

“He should apologise for what he did.”

“Undercover or not he shouldn't have committed half the atrocities he did!”

“We should get an apology!”

Prime glances back. Starscream remains unmoved. If he is hoping for a spontaneous outpouring of remorse and regret Prime is looking in entirely the wrong place.

Without waiting for verbal confirmation, Prime turns back to the crowd. “I am not going to order Starscream to apologise. It would be an empty gesture that will not bring the closure many of you seek. If there are specific acts he regrets I am sure in time he will find the words to voice a personal apology. He has sacrificed a great deal-”

“Like what?”

“Yeah, he probably enjoyed his 'undercover' work!”

“I bet he only switched sides because he got tired of having his aft handed to him!”

“He's a monster! He should be locked away for good!”

“Or better yet someone should put a bullet through his spark!”

“ _ENOUGH!”_

There is silence as Prime's gaze turns hard and cold.

“Most of you are not officers. You do not understand how a single piece of information often decides if a battle ends in victory or defeat. The data Starscream has passed to us has saved more lives than I can count. The conflicts we have not engaged in because we knew we were outnumbered, the civilians we were able to evacuate because of an early warning of a bombing raid, the security flaws we have been able to exploit to secure a victory. These would not have been possible without Starscream. He has likely had some influence on the continued survival of everyone in this room. I understand that you do not know about these things so you only see the deaths he has brought about to maintain his cover; but I assure you that if we had ever doubted that his contribution to the war effort did not balance out then we would have pulled him from the Decepticons. I hope you still have enough faith in me to believe that I would never willingly put any of you in more danger than was absolutely necessary.”

A few mechs drop their helms as Prime continues to lead them on a highly effective guilt trip.

“I would also ask who among you would be willing to do what Starscream has done? Every Autobot I know would willingly rush headlong into danger with a blaster in hand to defend our comrades, but who here would be willing to put down their blaster and walk unarmed into enemy territory? To live and fight among that enemy to help further a cause they believe in? To abandon the joy of camaraderie and turn their weapons on their fellows because it is the only way to save their lives? I do not believe I could have done what he has done. I could not have spent millennia amongst the Decepticons acting in a way which would not arouse suspicion – knowing that if I did not conform to Megatron's standards I would be tortured and murdered. Starscream has sacrificed much to ensure we had the best possible chance of stopping Megatron's reign of tyranny. Part of that sacrifice was his personality. When I first met him he used words to gain what he needed. The longer he has spent among the Decepticons the more his first instinct has been to use or threaten violence to persuade. Such a change is, I hope, reversible if he is once again exposed to mechs who do not spend every second of their existence fearing retribution or treachery. It is this sort of sacrifice and suffering which should be acknowledged just as much as any crime Starscream committed when acting as a Decepticon.”

Starscream knows he should be outraged Prime is sharing personal observations with the grunts, but he is too mesmerised by the other's command of the room. Prime has quelled a budding rebellion more effectively than Megatron ever could. Megatron's policy of punching soldiers until they submitted to his authority always left an undercurrent of resentment which chose to show itself at the most inopportune of moments. Whatever Prime is doing right now seems to be doing a much better job of putting everyone in their place. Starscream can't help but find himself intrigued. Also a little worried that Prime has registered his increasing propensity for violence. Which other character flaws he has tried so hard to keep hidden have also been silently catalogued?

“I do not expect you to forget what Starscream has done. What I expect is for you to at least _attempt_ to understand why these things occurred. Starscream returned to us because his position in the Decepticons was no longer tenable. He could no longer provide the data we required and his life was in danger. He did not come here expecting to be welcomed with open arms. He did not expect to be hailed a hero. He did not expect any of you to be grateful. However I _am_ grateful, for everything Starscream has done. I therefore implore you to act like Autobots. To treat Starscream with _respect_. I know it will not be easy – for you or for him – to see each other as anything other than enemies. But he has agreed to _try_ and I would hope that all of you would replicate his effort. I will be incredibly disappointed if I hear any of you are going out of your way to start fights or to make life unpleasant for Starscream. I expect more from my soldiers and will not shy away from handing out punishments to those found disturbing the peace.”

Prime pauses, his gaze sweeping across his thoroughly chastised army.

“Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes Prime,” is the subdued answer.

“Good. You are all dismissed.”

66.

“I was impressed earlier,” Starscream murmurs as he rubs his hands up and down Prime's spread thighs. “The way you cowed the rabble with only your words and disappointment – it was very attractive.”

Reclined on Starscream's berth with his optics offline, Prime ex-vents heavily. “I do not like chastising my Autobots, but sometimes it is a necessary evil.”

A smirk curls Starscream's lip-plates as he works his digits into Prime's knee joint. “I could reprimand them for you next time; my treat.”

Prime huffs his amusement. “Thank you for the offer, but I do not think your displeasure will have quite the same effect as mine.”

“Hmm, maybe you're right.”

Starscream leans forward to press open-mouthed kisses from Prime's knee up to his mouth. Prime groans as their lip-plates meet, his hands rising to fondle Starscream's wings. Pleasure zips through Starscream's frame as the familiar touch brings all his sensors online.

“How soundproof are these rooms?” Starscream asks as he nips at Prime's jaw.

“Hmm?”

“The walls. How soundproof are they?” Starscream asks slowly, nearly laughing at how distracted Prime is after a little kissing. “Can we be as loud as we please or do I need to cover your intake when you overload?”

“Oh. Ah.” Prime squirms as he actually considers it. “I believe we will need to show some restraint.”

Cackling, Starscream thrusts his digits into the seams of Prime's chassis, prompting a long, low moan. “The voice of experience?”

“There were a few problems in the beginning. My neighbours were very gracious when I complained.”

Starscream moves his hand to Prime's windshield. He knows he should leave it there but the jealous, paranoid part of his processor can't help but ask, “You haven't received any then?”

“Any what?”

“Complaints.”

Prime takes his wrist in a firm hold and meets his optics. “You are the only lover I have taken since we began our affair. I would not have kept something like that from you.”

Pleasure curls deep in Starscream's tank even as he gives his wings a nonchalant flick. “It's not like we ever agreed to be exclusive.”

“Perhaps no words were spoken,” Prime agrees. “But they did not need to be. Even if I had wanted to take another lover – which I did not – I knew that you would not and that you expected me to do the same.”

“Why?”

Prime cups his faceplate with both hands. “Because you are a possessive, proud creature Starscream. It takes time and effort to gain your trust. Even longer to gain your affection.” One hand drifts to his wing as he adds, “Also you are terrible at sharing.”

Starscream forces a laugh. “You talk as if we're already bonded.”

“I know we're not bonded.”

“I'm not a sappy Autobot who believes in love.”

Prime does a terrible job of hiding his hurt. “I know.”

Starscream ignores it. “It's just fragging. Nothing more complex or deep than that.”

“I know.”

Prime ends the discussion by kissing him long and hard until the fear in his spark melts away.

Still, as he fails to fall into recharge, Starscream can't help but dwell on the conversation and everything Prime _didn't_ say.

67.

Despite his best attempts to keep Prime in his berth the next morning, the dutiful fool is determined to begin the morning shift on time.

“Are you _certain_ I can't tempt you?”

Prime gives his cockpit a longing look before resolutely shaking his helm. “We will have time for that tonight, after our shifts end.”

Starscream cocks an optic ridge. “Our?”

“The first step of your integration. Jazz volunteered to find an Autobot to show you round. They will clarify your duties and help you learn to navigate the ship. They should be here not long after the new duty shift begins.”

With a heavy ex-vent Starscream pushes himself onto his thrusters. “I suppose I better make myself presentable for my guide then. Which way to the washracks?”

Prime grabs his arm and, even though the hold is light and easily breakable, Starscream freezes. “About what I said yesterday.”

Panic claws at him until he registers Prime is _not_ talking about their awkward conversation pre-interface.

“It applies to you too. No matter what anyone else might say, I don't want you to be the one who escalates the situation. Brawling will not be accepted on the Ark. I will discipline you the same way I would any other of my soldiers if I find you were the one to incite the fight. I'm hoping you will be the bigger mech and ignore any misinformed comments. Can I trust you to do that; to walk away from deliberate or accidental provocation?”

Starscream ghosts his digits up Prime's arm. “What sort of discipline?” he asks slyly.

“Starscream,” is the disapproving response.

“Oh fine,” he grumbles, dropping his hand to his side. “I'll be good. For you.”

Prime smiles and kisses him. “Thank you,” he breathes against Starscream's lip-plates. Their gazes remain locked and Starscream wonders if Prime feels the same magnetic attraction he does.

Slowly, Prime's hand moves down Starscream's arm until their digits interlock.

“Perhaps,” he murmurs softly, “if the officers' washracks are empty it would be more efficient to share a cubicle?”

Starscream grins.

68.

Mere minutes after returning from the washracks the intercom buzzes to let him know his guide has arrived. Starscream glances one last time at his reflection to ensure there are no tell-tale paint transfers before opening the door. Jazz greets him with a grin.

“Morning mech. Recharge well?”

“Very well,” Starscream purrs.

“Glad to hear it,” Jazz replies wolfishly. “You know Bumblebee right?” He plants a hand on the shoulder of the dejected looking Autobot beside him. “He's volunteered-”

“Was volunteered,” Bumblebee murmurs.

“-to show you round the base and update you on your duties. I have a Command Meeting or I'd do it myself. Fortunately I have a dependable team to pick up the slack when Prowl threatens to put me in cuffs and drag me to his _very important_ _meeting._ ” He sighs dreamily before again clapping Bumblebee's shoulder. “Anyway, enough about me and my plans. I'll check in later to see how this Spec Ops team bonding is going. Play nice you two.”

“I always do,” Starscream replies archly.

Jazz's visor flashes in what might be a wink as he spins on his heelstrut. Starscream watches him disappear down the corridor before turning his attention to Bumblebee. From the resigned look in his optics he is anticipating that this will be the worst assignment of his functioning. Starscream's first instinct is to be offended and reward the mech's lack of faith in him with sarcasm, scorn, and general bad attitude. However, the rarely used conscientious part of his processor reminds him, he'd promised to be good. For Prime and his stupid smiles and ability to gift processor-shattering overloads. He needs to make an effort. He needs to show the Autobots he is not the insufferable glitch they think he is. He needs to, _ugh_ , bond with his new teammate.

“So is this a punishment or a back-handed compliment?”

“Huh?”

Starscream resists the temptation to roll his optics. “Were you selected to be my guide as punishment for bad behaviour or as an affirmation that you're a model Autobot?”

That produces a rueful smile. “The downside of being part of Jazz's team and having a reputation as one of the friendliest mechs on the Ark.”

Starscream nods. “And that is exactly why I try to be as unfriendly as possible. It took some time but eventually my underlings learned that if they wanted their requisition requests approved instead of literally thrown back in their faceplates they should bother Soundwave with that nonsense. If anyone ever actually asked me for a favour I knew they were truly desperate.”

Bumblebee's optics widen. “Really?”

Starscream raises an optic ridge. “Which part of that do you find unbelievable?”

“Well – none of it, if I'm being honest. But did you really throw requisition requests at Decepticons?”

“Sometimes I'd just fake laugh until they got uncomfortable and left my office of their own accord, but mostly I threw their requests at their helms and ordered them out of my sight.”

Bumblebee gapes at him for a moment before saying in a panic, “Please don't tell Jazz that story, I don't want him to get ideas. Or Prowl.”

Starscream laughs before leaning forward to murmur conspiratorially, “My lip-plates are sealed.”

A look of relief settles on the scout's faceplate. It slowly morphs into one of contemplation. “Can I ask you a question?”

Starscream crosses his arms. “You can ask, but I reserve the right not to answer.”

Bumblebee inclines his helm in acknowledgement of what is a very reasonable response. “Optimus said you weren't being made an officer, so why have you been assigned officers' quarters?”

Starscream glances behind him at the simple room comprising of a berth, desk and assorted shelving. It is roughly the same size as what he'd had on the Nemesis; standard officers' quarters for a warship this size. His wings flick upwards as he shrugs. “Jazz said he wanted to keep me close at hand, just in case. Also something insulting about how I'd throw a fit if I had to endure a permanent downgrade in accommodation.”

There had also been plenty of quips about enabling him and Prime to enjoy their 'honeymoon period' without being caught berth-hopping, but that was by the by.

Bumblebee smiles in acceptance of his explanation. “It's probably for the best. Some mechs aren't taking your, err, return all that well. They'll think twice about causing trouble if they have to walk past all of High Command to get to your quarters.”

The sudden, harsh cant of his wings prompts Bumblebee to hastily clarify,

“I don't mean they'd attack you while you recharge! I was thinking more like covering your quarters in silly string or gluing down all your possessions. You know, stupid prank stuff.”

The attempt at reassurance doesn't make him feel the least bit better.

“But that won't happen so there's nothing to worry about,” Bumblebee says with a forced smile that does little to disguise the anxiety in his optics. “Shall we start the tour?”

With some effort Starscream pushes the topic out of his processor. “Yes, let's.”

69.

It does not take long for Starscream to understand how Bumblebee earned his reputation as one of the friendliest Autobots on the Ark. After ten minutes of careful conversation the little bot relaxes and from that point on it is all easy smiles, smart questions, and amusing banter. Starscream is more than a little taken aback. From previous encounters with the Autobot he'd assumed that 'friendly' was an euphemism for annoying smart-mouth. Apparently that was a side of himself he reserved for his enemies. If he actually warmed to you he was a perfectly tolerable companion.

70.

The hour they spend exploring the Ark passes quickly and pleasantly, even with more than one hostile glance being sent Starscream's way. He ignores them, as he'd promised Prime he would, allowing his guide to expertly manoeuvre him into more welcoming environments where mechs simply pretend he doesn't exist. Unless Bumblebee stops them with a greeting and forces a formal introduction on them. More than a little perplexed, they are bound by Autobot custom to return the greeting to both him and Starscream. The Seeker somehow manages not to laugh as they walk away with the Autobot's confused optics following their retreating frames. The slightly evil smile on Bumblebee's lip-plates lets Starscream know the little bot understands _exactly_ what he's doing and that just makes Starscream like him more.

71.

Unlike the rest of his colleagues Wheeljack is actually _pleased_ to see Starscream entering his laboratory. “Hey there. I was wondering when you were finally going to get here.”

“We saved the best part of the tour for last,” Bumblebee says with a smile as he nudges Starscream further into the laboratory. Starscream can't help but notice his guide very much intends to stay as close to the exit as possible.

“Of course,” Wheeljack chuckles, pushing aside whatever project he's working on. “Come on in, I'll show you round.”

Starscream glances at Bumblebee but the yellow bot shakes his helm. “I know better than to wander too close to things which might explode. Which in here is everything.”

Starscream arches an optic ridge. “It's good to know your scientist is an equal opportunities menace,” he says as he approaches Wheeljack, prompting a laugh from both Autobots.

“What can I say? I work with volatile materials; if there wasn't the occasional explosion mechs would start to talk.”

Jerking a thumb in Bumblebee's direction Starscream states, “That is not the reaction of someone entering a room where there is an _occasional_ explosion.”

Wheeljack chuckles. “Ratchet was right; you are surprisingly likeable.”

Starscream nearly does a double-take. “Ratchet said that?”

“Not in so many words,” Wheeljack replies slyly. “But I could tell you'd made an impression.”

Unsure of how to react to that, Starscream remains silent. Wheeljack's expression turns knowing as he begins pointing out where they keep their equipment and giving a brief rundown of the projects everyone is working on. These are apparently as communal as the equipment; Starscream is quick to spot the board in one corner of the the lab advertising that Perceptor wishes to discuss the real life applications of his new theory and Skyfire requesting a second set of optics to check his calculations. Starscream feels his spark throb at the thought that his old friend might be mere meters away in one of the private labs or testing rooms. He angrily pushes that thought aside; there will be time later for sentimental reunions.

“So are you really a scientist or was that just part of your cover?” Wheeljack asks playfully.

Starscream tenses and has to force down his immediate desire to punch Wheeljack in the faceplate. The engineer is not insinuating that flight frames cannot be scientists – the remark is not malicious, there is no need to overreact.

Sensing his misstep Wheeljack quickly continues, “Working in the labs counts as an official duty. If you'd be interested in helping out we'd love to have you. It'll be easy to add you to the roster, but if you'd rather not that's cool too.”

“No,” Starscream states as calmly as possible. “I'd like to be added to the roster. Thank you.”

Relaxing, Wheeljack's finials again flash to indicate he is smiling. “No problem. Like I said, we'd love to have you. A new perspective might finally lead to a breakthrough on some of our more challenging projects.”

Starscream nods and glances at Bumblebee in a silent request for assistance. The little bot gives an almost imperceptible nod. “If you're finished with the tour we should move on. Still got to hit the mess for morning energon.”

“Oh, mind if I join you? I'm kinda low myself; better fill up if I want to avoid the dreaded wrath of Ratchet.”

“Sure. The more the merrier. Right Starscream?”

Unable to offer a suitable objection Starscream parrots, “Yes. The more the merrier.”

72.

“Hey mechs. Mind if we join you?”

The looks the four Autobots shoot Wheeljack indicate that, yes, they do mind if that 'we' includes Starscream – but the engineer either misses or chooses to ignore that minor inconvenience.

“Great! 'Bee, Starscream, take a seat; I'll go grab the energon.”

Bumblebee grins as they join the table. “How is everyone this fine morning?”

“Late for my shift,” one of the Autobots (Smokescreen?) mutters as he makes to stand. “If you'll excuse me-”

“Are you sure you need to leave?” Bumblebee asks pleasantly. “I mean, if you've got to go you've got to go. But if you don't I would hate for you to miss out on gossip of this magnitude.”

Smokescreen pauses. “What gossip?”

The picture of casual innocence, Bumblebee turns to Starscream and says, “So is it true that Hook makes the other Constructicons go for a deep clean before he lets them into his berth?”

“Actually he makes them spend a minimum ten minutes under cold solvent before he'll let them into their _shared quarters_.”

The Autobots lean a centimetre forward, their optics glowing with intrigue. “Really?”

Seeing Bumblebee's game Starscream allows a smile to form on his lip-plates. “Really. And that's not the worst of it. Let me tell you about the time...”

73.

It turns out Autobots are worse gossips than Decepticons. Starscream is truly amazed by the number and variety of ridiculous rumours the Autobots have managed to invent about their enemy (and endlessly amused how close to the truth some of their speculations fall). By the time Wheeljack returns with their fuel (nearly double what the Decepticons are currently surviving on) the tension at their table has entirely disappeared. Consumed by their morbid curiosity Starscream's companions (and those unsubtly listening in around them) have forgotten that he is supposed to be their enemy. Having an expert settle the wagers they have made regarding Decepticon kinks and relationships obviously takes a higher priority than maintaining their animosity.

“So some of us have a bet going that Jazz is going to get under Soundwave's panel by the end of the war. How likely are we to see our Shanix again?”

“Hmm.” Starscream drums his digits against the table as he weighs the variables. “Overall I'd say the odds are poor. Jazz might be persuasive but Soundwave is stubborn. So long as Jazz is considered an enemy combatant he's going to keep his panel firmly shut. Even if he was minutes from deactivation he'd never lower himself to committing treason, no matter how charming the Autobot.”

“Ooh. So there's some reciprocation there?”

“More like a deep respect for a worthy opponent. I'm fairly certain he finds Jazz's flirting childish and beneath his notice. However, if Soundwave ever did decide to remove the pole shoved firmly up his aft I imagine Jazz would make the list of potential berth partners.”

“Who are the others?”

“I'm not listing them.”

“Why not?”

“Because Soundwave might as well have taken a vow of chastity the way he acts; absolutely no fragging until the war is won. I'm not going to risk purging over pure speculation.”

“Oh come on!”

“Please Starscream!”

“Top five mechs Soundwave is likely to frag!”

“Megatron, Jazz, Prowl, Thundercracker, Red Alert,” Starscream says automatically before miming gagging.

“Why them?”

“Well, Megatron is obvious.” He receives collective nods. “If the war was over I imagine he'd be interested in a worthy opponent; an Autobot he had to up his game to beat. And Thundercracker is one of the very few Decepticons you could describe as quiet and sane and I can see Soundwave appreciating that.”

The Autobots laugh and descend into their own speculations, allowing Starscream a moment to savour the taste of his energon. It has been a long time since he partook in anything like this. Not since he climbed the Decepticon ranks and began his power games with Megatron. After that no Decepticon wished to be seen with him lest they be tarred with the same traitorous brush. Even Thundercracker and Skywarp had kept their distance, only allowing the occasional concerned word to be spoken when they were well away from prying optics. They'd stopped including him in their gossip entirely when they crashed on Earth. Until this moment Starscream hadn't realised that he'd missed it. Being part of a group, sharing a joke, feeling comfortable with those around him. It is something he thinks he might be able to grow use to.

“Next question!” Smokescreen nearly shouts, breaking Starscream out of his musings. “Who is the best Decepticon frag?”

Starscream offers him a lop-sided smile. “I'm afraid I don't trust any of the boasting I've heard enough to give an informed opinion.”

Smokescreen raises an optic ridge. “You don't have any personal experience?”

“No, I don't.” Starscream rolls his optics. “Honestly. Why do all Autobots assume I'd be interested in popping my panel for any of those losers?”

“Well how else did you climb the chain of command so quickly?”

Starscream scowls as he turns in his seat to face Cliffjumper. “Usually I killed my commanding officer. Sometimes I just sat back and watched them displease Megatron. In the beginning there were plenty of opportunities to move up the ranks.”

“That's not what I heard.”

“Cliff' don't,” Bumblebee tries to interject. Cliffjumper ignores him.

“I heard you got your promotions by luring mechs into offices which locked, if you know what I mean.”

“I do,” Starscream growls. “You should think twice about throwing around such accusations.”

“Why? What are you going to do about it?”

He considers saying he'll punt the twerp into the nearest ocean, but a concerned, “Starscream,” from Wheeljack reminds him that he can't.

“I'll report you. I doubt Prime will consider this 'showing respect'.”

“Heh. You're just proving my point. You've been here five minutes and you're already sucking up to High Command. Is that how you managed to go so long without getting scrapped by Megatron? Did you get on your knees and everything was forgiven? Or did you have to take his spike-”

Before Starscream even realises it he is on his feet with Cliffjumper dangling by the neck. “Finish that sentence. I dare you.”

“Starscream.”

He aims his null-ray at the bot impudent enough to lay a hand on him before remembering his weapons were removed. Also that the hand on his should belongs to Skyfire. For such a big bot Skyfire has always been quiet on his feet.

“Put him down,” Skyfire says gently.

Starscream releases Cliffjumper immediately. The bot falls to the floor ready for a fight. Bumblebee intercedes before he can start one.

“It's been a long time since we talked properly,” Skyfire continues calmly. “Why don't we go to my lab?”

With his battle protocols online Starscream is hyper-aware of his surroundings. Of Bumblebee and Wheeljack restraining Cliffjumper as they try to talk him down. Of the room of tense Autobots waiting for him to explode. He notes that none of them have reached for their weapons. They only plan to react with violence if he escalates the situation.

Slowly Starscream lowers his arm. “Alright.”

Skyfire smiles encouragingly, his hand drifting down Starscream's back and gently propelling him towards the exit. “This way.”

Nobody attempts to stop them. The room falls silent as Cliffjumper stops resisting; accepting at last that there will be no fight.

The silence makes it all too easy to hear Smokescreen call Cliffjumper an idiot.

74.

The journey to Skyfire's lab is made in silence. Although he does not need the guiding hand between his wings Starscream doesn't demand Skyfire remove it. The old familiarity of the touch helps cut through the rage, helps his processor to settle. By the time they arrive at their destination he is calm again, and perfectly aware of the way Skyfire is watching him. Like he is some organic species they read about in their research that he is uncertain on how to approach. Is he friendly? Will he attack if Skyfire reaches for him? Or is he a creature best avoided at all costs?

“Will you sit?” Skyfire asks, indicating his work chair as the door slides shut behind them.

Starscream regards the room critically before sweeping aside a stack of datapads and taking a seat on Skyfire's desk. The shuttle rolls his optics but a fond smile tugs at his lip-plates as he takes the chair.

“You always do that.”

“I do,” Starscream agrees. “Because you never get assigned an office big enough for two chairs.”

“We could have made another chair fit.”

This, Starscream is willing to admit, is true. Although the side laboratory was clearly designed for a smaller mech adjustments have been made so that Skyfire can use the bench on one side of the room for experiments and the bench opposite as a desk. If another shuttle wanted to share the space they might struggle, but Starscream can fit comfortably in the room. Especially when he is perched on the desk and able to more easily look Skyfire in the optics.

“The Autobots have been looking after you then.”

Skyfire smiles. “Yes. When I told them I was a scientist they were only too happy to help me set up my own lab. They even let me choose my projects. There's some expectation I'll prioritise researching things which will help the war effort, but seeing as my speciality is xenobiology I'm mostly left to my own devices. I just have to make myself available in case some creature turns up that they can't neutralise in the usual way.”

“You mean with guns.”

“Yes, with guns,” Skyfire replies tiredly.

Starscream grins. He never thought he'd miss hearing Skyfire complain about their species' tendency to shoot first ask questions later when it comes to strange and dangerous beasts.

Speaking of which – there is that look in his optics again. As if he is considering extending his hand towards the cornered creature and hoping he will not regret the decision.

“How have you been Starscream?”

“You know how I've been.”

“Do I?” Skyfire asks. “I know that you dug me out of the ice and ordered me to murder mechs I had no quarrel with. I know that you shot me when I refused and left me behind. I know that when I left to collect samples you were the Decepticon Second in Command and when I returned you were an Autobot spy who had been undercover since the war began. I know that the Starscream I use to travel the universe with had a much better control over his temper. I know that he rarely needed to resort to violence; he could have crushed Cliffjumper with his words alone. So I'll ask again.” Skyfire leans forward and places one large hand on Starscream's knee. “How have you been?”

The question, combined with the unadulterated _concern_ on Skyfire's faceplate, hits Starscream straight in the spark. He takes a long, shuddering in-vent, as he is assaulted by emotions he has kept repressed for a long, _long_ time. Frag Skyfire and his ability to make Starscream _feel_.

“Not good,” he murmurs at last.

A sad smile materialises on Skyfire's faceplate. “Will you tell me about it?”

“I'd rather not,” Starscream admits. “But you deserve to know. You deserve to know all of it.” He forces a crooked smile. “Hope you're sitting comfortably. It's a long tale.”

“I've got time.”

75.

Starscream tells him everything. He starts at the point when he realised he couldn't save Skyfire on his own and returned to Cybertron. He speaks in vivid detail of the rage he felt, the humiliation he suffered, of all the reasons he was drawn to the Decepticons. He recounts how Jazz approached him, convinced him to meet Prime and how from that point on he was undeniably one of Prime's Autobots. He skims over the acts he committed to maintain his cover. He smiles fondly as he reminisces how Prime became more than his commander. He looks away as he catalogues the abuse Megatron piled upon him until he could withstand it no longer.

At last his tale comes to an end and he again focuses his attention on Skyfire. The shuttle looks as if he is struggling to absorb the information. Starscream isn't surprised – it's a lot to take in. Over a millennia of violence, deception, and manipulation. For someone like Skyfire, who he'd always tried his best to hide his darker parts from, it must be even more jarring.

“So,” Skyfire says at last. “You and Optimus Prime. You're together.”

Starscream cycles his optics. Of all the parts of his story he'd thought Skyfire might question him on that hadn't been the one he'd expected him to start with.

“I suppose. If by 'together' you mean exclusively fragging then, yes, we're very much together.” He pauses before adding, “High Command know about it through necessity but no-one else. After witnessing their reactions we thought it prudent to keep it hidden for now.”

Skyfire nods, but Starscream isn't certain he is actually listening. “It makes sense. Praise and appreciation from authority figures always was your weakness. I bet he gave you all sorts of reassurances to keep you loyal.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Starscream demands, his features slipping into a scowl.

“Nothing,” Skyfire says, crossing his arms almost defensively. “I'm just trying to wrap my processor round it all. You know vocalising information helps me to process it.”

“Are you jealous?” Starscream accuses.

If he wasn't watching so closely he might have missed Skyfire's flinch.

“You are!” he exclaims, stunned. “Why on Cybertron would you-”

Something clicks in Starscream's processor. Before the storm they had been – not _together_ – but they had been partners. Partners with benefits Skywarp would have called it. They spent months at a time traversing through the vastness of space with only the other for company. They shared their successes and failures, aspirations and interests, jokes and dents; and whenever Starscream's plating itched for the touch of another it had been Skyfire's berth he had crawled into. For Starscream that all happened millennia ago but for Skyfire it has been mere _months_. No wonder he's jealous.

Clearing his vocaliser, Starscream looks away as he mutters, “It's not as if I intended to replace you. It just happened. And it didn't happen until years after I'd finished mourning your supposed death!”

“Replace me?”

Starscream silently curses. “That's not what I meant.”

Skyfire stares at him long and hard. “Actually, I think it is.”

To Starscream's surprise Skyfire doesn't sound angry. If anything he sounds almost...sad.

“Starscream,” Skyfire starts slowly, “What was I to you? Before the storm, what were we?”

“You were my friend,” Starscream replies cautiously. “My best friend.”

Skyfire nods, his expression remaining frustratingly unreadable. “And is Prime your best friend now?”

“No,” Starscream denies vehemently. “He's not... You're still...”

“Then what is he to you?”

It takes far too long for Starscream to formulate a response. Tellingly long.

“I am not in love with him!”

“Are you sure?” Skyfire asks, cocking an optic ridge sceptically. “I've known you a long time Starscream. At one point I was the mech who knew you best... But that was a long time ago.” He ex-vents heavily and returns to looking infinitely sad. “You're right that I'm jealous, but not for the reasons you think. I loved you, romantically, once upon a time. We did everything together and, well. You were my world. I was happy with you and with what we had together. When I heard that you were an Autobot, that everything I'd seen and heard of the ruthless Air Commander Starscream was all an act, I'd let myself hope that maybe things could go back to the way they were. To it being just you and me out there in the vastness of space searching for new planets to explore.

“Listening to you talk about Optimus Prime and all the things you've done for his cause made me realise I was being stupid; things could never go back to the way they were. Not just because the world has changed too much for that to be an option, or that you've changed too much, but because I finally got an answer to the question I was too scared to ask all those years ago. I'd always hoped that you loved me back but didn't know how to show it. That wasn't the case though was it? I was your best friend – your only friend – who you sometimes interfaced with. What we had wasn't romantic. Hearing you talk about Prime made that painfully clear; I've never seen you talk with such passion and affection for someone else. You love him, romantically, even if you refuse to admit it. I can't help but be jealous of the mech able to inspire that in you. Not after wanting it for such a long time.”

Starscream shakes his helm in vicious denial. “No. You're wrong. You're confused. You just said that I've changed – and I have – and you're reading me wrong. You're seeing things that aren't there. I _don't_ love him. The only mech I love is myself.”

“That's not true,” Skyfire says in that sad but infuriatingly reasonable voice. “You love me. Not romantically, but you still love me. Or is friendship as different to love as Autobots are to Decepticons?”

“Stop!” Starscream snaps. “Stop twisting words to prove a completely unfounded theory.”

“Why?” Skyfire asks with a wry smile. “Are you the only one allowed to do that?”

Starscream hisses and contemplates storming out. The reassuring squeeze Skyfire gives his knee keeps him in place.

“This isn't an attack Starscream. I'm not trying to hurt you or trap you. It's just that, for all that you've changed over the years, at spark you're still the same Starscream I once knew. He was so use to being hurt and hated that he found it hard to trust. To let anyone get close to him. To admit that he cared. For a long time I had to read between the lines. See that his actions were those of a friend. That when he denied that I was anything more than the most tolerable member of our class that was just a defence mechanism. If he didn't admit that he cared, even to himself, it hurt less when he was betrayed. When they left because they saw too much of the real Starscream or because they were only using him to begin with.”

“Are you sure this isn't an attack?” Starscream asks with narrowed optics and flared wings.

The wry smile returns. “I'm just trying to point out that you may not be as impartial about this as you think. You've trained yourself to believe that you don't love because you never dared to believe anyone would love you back. That's why you can't see how much you love Prime but to those who know you it's so very obvious.”

“Why should I trust you?” Starscream asks, forcing as much venom as possible into his voice. “Why should I believe a single word of your supposed confession? And why, if you really do love me as you claim, would you then try to point out that I'm 'in love' with someone else? You should be doing the opposite – you should be trying to convince me that Prime hates me, in order to steal back my affections.”

Skyfire allows his words to sit between them for what feels like hours. “Do you think I'm the kind of bot who does that? Tries to hurt the one I care about for purely selfish reasons?”

Starscream glares until his conscious forces him to look away. “You said it yourself: I find it hard to trust.”

“And that's why I don't take your distrust personally.”

Starscream is silent for a long moment as he turns over Skyfire's words, twisting and rearranging them like a logic puzzle.

“Why now?” he asks at last. “Why keep quiet about how you really felt for so long only to dump it on me now?”

Skyfire ex-vents heavily. “I kept quiet because I was afraid. I didn't want to push and ruin what we had. I enjoyed being with you and was scared that if I asked for more you'd panic; you'd run away and I'd be left with nothing. I pretended that we were in exactly the same place because deep down I knew that was the only way I could keep you.”

Starscream's claws dig into the bench beneath him. Prime's hurt expression from the night before flashes through his processor. Wanting more but refusing to ask to keep Starscream close. Apparently it is a recurring theme in the story of Starscream's relationships.

If Skyfire notices the damage he is kind enough not to mention it. “As for why I'm bringing it up now... Well, I've already lost you haven't I?” Before Starscream can interject Skyfire continues, “I don't mean completely. I mean that I've spent the last few months thinking you had been consumed by all the hate and rage I've always known was inside you. I thought you'd gone somewhere I couldn't follow. Even if you weren't in love with Prime we'd still have needed to rebuild what was between us. So I'm taking the opportunity to lay my cards on the table. To say all the things I was too much of a coward to say before so that when we start to rebuild our friendship we're clear about what we want and where we are.”

Skyfire cycles his vents before purposefully meeting Starscream's optics.

“I'm disappointed that things can't go back to the way they use to be. I'm hurt that you've found somebody else. I'm exasperated that you're too full of yourself to realise you're in love. I'm annoyed that my first instinct is to try and fix your love-life before you ruin it instead of taking time to mend my own spark. I'm disappointed I won't get to frag you against that desk when this conversation is over.”

Starscream can't resist smiling at that. Skyfire smiles right back.

“I'm glad you weren't alone all those years I was lost. I'm relieved you didn't lose yourself in the darkness. I'm hopeful that we can rebuild our friendship into something stronger than before. I'm eager to talk science with you again. I'm excited to see how you carve out a place for yourself on the Ark. I'm looking forward to threatening Optimus Prime into taking good care of you.”

“Don't you dare,” Starscream growls, pointing a warning claw at Skyfire's faceplate.

“Okay, I won't,” Skyfire concedes. “But you have to do something for me. Two things, actually.”

“What?” Starscream asks suspiciously.

Skyfire smiles. “I think we're both on the same page now, but if I'm wrong you need to let me know. That's my first request. My second request...” He looks away, uncertainty flickering in his optics. “I don't know Prime that well. I don't know how invested he is in your relationship and I can't predict how he will react to things. But if I was in his place and the person I'd loved for centuries couldn't bear to admit that they loved me back I'd eventually start wondering why. Even if I knew they struggled expressing their feelings I wouldn't be able to help it. I'd wonder if I'd done something wrong. If I was wrong. If they were going to grow bored of me and move on.” He pauses before adding, “If they even needed me now that they have their best friend back.”

Starscream's claws bite into Skyfire's wrist. “I need both of you.”

Quietly, Skyfire asks, “Have you ever told _him_ that?”

Starscream's silence is answer enough.

“That's my second request,” Skyfire says gently. “I'm not asking you to confess your undying love to him, but give him something. Let him know there's something more than lust there. Reassure him that you won't run away if he hints too heavily that he cares. Give him hope that one day you'll be in the same place and willing to admit it.”

Slowly, Starscream extricates his claws.

“I think that's enough talking for today.”

Skyfire searches his faceplate for... something, before carefully moving his chair backwards. “I'm sorry if I went too far.”

Starscream jumps off the desk, his wings twitching restlessly. “You're asking a lot of me. You're asking me to tell someone I love them when I don't believe in love. Some days it's hard enough accepting I have friends. To actually admit that I have romantic feelings... What is that even supposed to mean!?”

“It means different things to different bots. Generally it means that you can't imagine a life without them. That they're the one you feel safest, happiest with. That you'd be willing to sacrifice everything to keep them happy and safe. It's like there's a magnet in your spark forever pulling you back to them. It's like friendship but more intense. Some days it's like you're burning from the inside out.”

Starscream isn't sure what expression he's showing, but whatever it is makes Skyfire smile sympathetically.

“I think you know what love feels like. You're just too scared to admit it.”

“Is that what you feel for me?” Starscream demands and instantly regrets it.

Pain flashes across Skyfire's faceplate but he still answers, “It use to be, back when it was just the two of us. Less so now. I still want you to be happy, but the magnetism has gone.” Skyfire's smile looks as if it costs him something as he admits, “There's an old saying about the strange things space does to your processor. When we were alone in the void I knew for certain you were the only one for me, but as soon as we returned to Cybertron I started to doubt. Being around others made me question whether it was romantic love I was feeling or just me clutching desperately to my best friend. The more I think about it the more I start to think it was the latter.” After a moment's contemplation his smile becomes more genuine. “I love you Starscream. I'm starting to come to terms with the fact that it's platonic, for the both of us. I'm not sad about that – not really. It might take some time to adjust to, to accept, but my spark knows it's for the best. Being your friend is enough. You deserve to be with someone you love romantically. And so do I. We don't need to settle out of desperation. We deserve to be happy. Now that you've found the mech who makes your spark burn maybe I'll be able to move on and do the same. It won't be easy to get over you but-”

Without thinking Starscream rests his hand on Skyfire's arm. “I want you to be happy. You _deserve_ to be happy.” He pauses, grasping blindly for the right words. “I know it won't be the same, but I want my friend back. I want things to be good between us. I...Frag.” He ex-vents heavily before saying, only half jokingly, “I wish I could burn down a city to fix things instead of talking about them.”

Starscream can't help smiling at Skyfire's disapproving expression.

“What? You have your way of processing information and I have mine.”

The disapproval easily morphs into thoughtfulness. “That is true,” Skyfire murmurs. From his subspace he pulls out an old Cybertronian ten-sided logic puzzle and presents it to Starscream. “Here. I know you like to keep your hands busy when you're thinking things through. I've given you enough data to sort through; it's time you retired somewhere quiet and picked it apart. That was always how you had your most ingenious breakthroughs.”

Starscream carefully takes the puzzle and stores it in his own subspace. “Thank you Skyfire.”

“It's what friends do,” Skyfire answers easily.

“Info dump their emotions then say sorry with cheap puzzles?”

“Get out of my lab Starscream,” Skyfire deadpans.

Starscream grins as he palms open the door and exits with a cheeky wave. Skyfire rolls his optics, fondly exasperated.

They're going to be alright. All they need is time.

76.

As Starscream rounds the corner leading back to the officers' quarters a shout of, “Hey, Starscream, wait!” causes him to pause. He turns to see one of the Aerialbots (Skydive?) rushing to catch up with him. He crosses his arms over his cockpit as he waits for the little jet to stumble to a halt before him.

“Yes?”

The Aerialbot squirms apprehensively. “I was just wondering. You went to the Vos War Academy right?”

“I did,” he replies, wondering where this is going.

“Well do you think you could teach my brothers and I some of the things you learnt? We've never had any formal aerial combat training and I think it would really help us against the Decepticons. What do you think?”

Starscream considers the Aerialbot as he mulls over the proposition. Skydive continues to squirm under his gaze until, taking his silence as derisive judgement, he cracks and says,

“Forget it. It was a stupid idea; I'm sorry to have bothered you.”

Starscream allows him to turn and take two steps before saying, “I'm not much of a teacher.”

Skydive turns back to look at him. “What?”

“I'm impatient, snide, and have incredibly high standards. I expect my students to obey me without question and not to whine when I push them past their limits. You're right that you would benefit from training – whether I am an appropriate instructor is a different matter. But if after hearing my warning you and your brothers still wish to proceed I will organise some lessons.” He smirks as he adds, “At the very least it will ensure I get some decent flight time in.”

Skydive's optics light up. “That would be amazing! I promise we'll be the best students ever! Thank you Starscream!”

Starscream waves away his gratitude. “If that's all kindly move along. There's somewhere I need to be.”

Flashing him another grin, Skydive retreats down the corridor with far more bounce in his step. Starscream ex-vents and returns to his room without any further incidents.

77.

“I heard you were involved in an altercation in the mess.”

After spending the rest of the day in his quarters replaying and analysing his conversation with Skyfire, Starscream is still more than a little distracted. He hums agreement, not looking up from the puzzle in his hands.

Prime sits beside him on the berth. “Will you tell me about it?”

“What's there to tell? Some pipsqueak tried to start a fight, I lost my temper, Skyfire got me out before it escalated. Unless the two dozen witnesses are telling a different story?”

Prime ex-vents heavily. “No, that corresponds with what everyone else is saying. Even Cliffjumper, unrepentant as he is, does not deny he was trying to provoke you.”

“Has he been punished?”

“Yes. Prowl is arranging his punishment duty as we speak.”

Starscream is quiet as he continues to focus on shifting the different faces of the puzzle. “You should give me a punishment duty too.”

“What?” Prime asks, startled.

“He's being punished for brawling right? It takes two to fight. I wouldn't want to be accused of favouritism.”

Prime takes a moment to consider his words. “You're right. It does take two to fight. That is why, in most instances, we automatically punish both of those involved in the altercation. However, if the circumstances are that something particularly upsetting was said as intended provocation, we show leniency towards the one who suffered a lapse in control.”

“I don't need leniency. Just give me punishment duty and draw a line under it.”

“You're being very gracious about this.”

Starscream lifts his wings in a shrug. Prime places a hand over Starscream's puzzle, putting a stop to the relentless movement of his own hands.

“Starscream,” Prime says softly. “Talk to me.”

“I don't know what you want me to say,” he growls. “It shouldn't matter what the idiot did. I promised I wouldn't respond to provocation and I failed. Just punish me like you would anyone else and be done with it.”

“Is that what's bothering you? Being accused of benefiting from favouritism instead of earning things on your own merit?”

Starscream offlines his optics. He considers his options. He can take the easy route and agree that this is exactly the reason he is so distracted. Prime will reassure him Cliffjumper is an idiot who doesn't know what he's talking about, warn him about responding to such blatant provocation, and become distracted by the interface Starscream initiates to end the conversation.

Alternatively he can dig a little deeper, try to explain how Cliffjumper's words got under his plating. That could lead to some dangerous, vulnerable places. Not as dangerous or as vulnerable as attempting to explain his conversation with Skyfire – but still not territory he is comfortable exploring. However... He's spent hours fixating on Skyfire's words and come to the realisation that he might have had a point. About Starscream refusing to be honest about his feelings for Prime. There are a multitude of reasons why he never acknowledged there was anything but interfacing between them, but many of them are no longer relevant. He's no longer behind enemy lines and can pretend he's only fragging Prime to keep him honest, to keep himself safe. He can't pretend it's better this way in case they're caught and their relationship used against them. They live in the same base, share the same space, share the same berth. There's no room for emotional distance.

Skyfire admitted that he didn't know Prime or his feelings, but Starscream does. He knows Prime well and knows that he and Skyfire share a startling number of personality traits. If Skyfire says that he would start to worry if he was in a relationship with someone who was determined it only be about interfacing then, eventually, so will Prime. There will come a time when Prime wants an actual affirmation of how Starscream feels. If he's not willing to give it there's a chance he'll lose him. Not all at once – oh no. It'll be slow. Whatever affection there is between them will turn into resentment and poison the relationship. Starscream has had enough of poisoned relationships. Nothing but empty promises were ever exchanged between him and Megatron, and that somehow makes everything that transpired _worse_. He doesn't want what he has with Prime to become anything like that. If the price of that is a little vulnerability...

“That was part of why I lost my temper. All my functioning I've been accused of using my frame to achieve things I earned through hard work and skill. In some ways I've come to expect it from ignorant grounders. It's the standard insult for a Seeker – if we're not mindless killing machines we're shameless share-ware.”

The hand around his tightens. Starscream can feel the protective rage radiating from Prime, but he does not interrupt.

“If he'd stopped there I think I'd have been able to walk away. But he didn't stop there. He dragged Megatron into it. He implied I _serviced_ Megatron to stop him deactivating me.” He onlines his optics and stares directly at Prime. “That was never on the table. If he'd held a gun to my helm and made it clear that was the only way I would get out of the encounter alive then, yes, I'd have done it. But to get into his inner circle? To get information I could pass to Jazz? No. I didn't want nor need to do that. Sure, I flirted with him, the same way Jazz flirts with everyone. Most mechs don't think any less of _him_ for it. As always it's one rule for grounders and another for Seekers.”

Starscream expels air from his vents and leans forward to bury his faceplate against Prime's windshield. Warm arms wrap round his waist and half drag him onto Prime's lap. Starscream shifts his weight until they are both comfortable, abandoning the puzzle so he can hook his claws into Prime's seams.

“Cliffjumper wanted a fight and knew bringing up Megatron would get him one. What I don't think he realised was that by implying I was trying to replicate with you what he believes I did with Megatron he was impinging on your good character as much as mine. He was essentially insinuating that you offer special treatment to those willing to pop their panel. Why would I 'suck up' to you if I didn't think I'd achieve results? For fun?” He laughs bitterly. “I hate everything that implies. That's why you need to punish me in some way. Make it clear there's no favouritism involved to all those who think you're so incapable of finding a berth partner without offering special treatment. Maybe then when we reveal our relationship everyone won't jump to the conclusion I only got a full pardon and these quarters because we're fragging.”

The hand which had been gently stroking up and down his back-strut freezes.

“When we reveal our relationship?”

“It won't be any time soon,” Starscream warns. “But we can't keep this hidden forever. It's going to come out eventually. Hopefully because we announce it and not because one of your idiots can't keep his intake shut. One day, though, we'll be ready to extend the circle of trust. On that day everyone will know that you're mine. And I'm yours?”

He doesn't mean for it to come out as a question. He'd wanted it to be a statement full of conviction, not a hesitant whisper. Still, he can't begrudge the result. Prime tips his chin up so he can meet his optics and says with the utmost conviction and sincerity, “I am yours, Starscream, and would be honoured if you would be mine.”

Starscream lunges for his lip-plates, suddenly desperate to devour him. Prime groans, kissing back with equal ferocity. Starscream struggles to get his knees on either side of Prime's hips, his hands moving to cup his faceplate. Prime's hands seem unable to decide where to settle – his thighs, his hips, his wings, the back of his helm. Heat flares from his spark straight to his interface array and Starscream isn't surprised when his modesty panel retracts.

He pulls back enough to growl, “I want your spike. _Now_.”

Hunger burns bright in Prime's optics, accompanied by the tell-tale sound of his spike releasing. Starscream restarts their kiss without any reduction in passion, moaning when Prime's hands finally discover _exactly_ where they're supposed to be.

78.

“Prowl has organised your punishment duty for tomorrow,” Optimus mutters hours later.

Starscream hums in acknowledgement, too exhausted to do much else.

“Thank you for volunteering to do it. I didn't want to force it on you. Even if not doing so would have shown flagrant favouritism. I didn't want to upset you. I didn't want to have to argue with you. Not properly. Not when I just got you back. Not when I finally have the chance to spend the night in berth with you like this.”

Starscream hums his agreement as he nuzzles Optimus' windshield.

“And thank you for saying what you did. It meant a lot to me.”

“Welcome. Meant it. Mine.”

“Yes,” Optimus replies with a smile in his voice. “Yours.”

It isn't a declaration of love. It's possessive and carnal and edged in violence. But it's a start.

79.

“You're in a surprisingly good mood this morning,” Bumblebee comments when he collects Starscream from his quarters.

Starscream, still buzzing from the enthusiastic groping he'd received in the washracks (they'd decided not to risk collapsing from an excess of interfacing), simply smiles. “What can I say? Skyfire and I had a very productive talk. It put me in a good enough mood to last me all the way through the recharge cycle.”

Bumblebee arches an optic ridge and Starscream won't be the least bit surprised if rumours suddenly start flying that he and Skyfire are fragging. A problem for another time.

“So where are we going? What punishment has Prowl concocted to mould me into being a model Autobot?”

“Outside. You're to clean the Ark's exterior in its entirety.”

Starscream laughs. “Is that it? This punishment duty should be an oil cake.”

“That's right,” Bumblebee says with a smile that on any other day Starscream would find suspicious. Today he allows it to wash over him as he continues to bask in the memory of strong, steady hands on his plating.

80.

By the time his punishment duty ends Starscream has vowed five times over to create an invention which kills any organic that dares to drop its waste on the Ark's gleaming exterior – much to Bumblebee's amusement.


End file.
